Page 14 of Written with Love

When they were alone again, Juliette glanced at the towering standalone stove. “I used your microwave earlier to heat the rolls and bacon. That thing belongs in a museum.”

“Or a horror movie.” He grinned. “I swear it makes noises at night.”

She laughed as he guided her past the outdated cupboards towards a small closet off the kitchen. He pulled open the door to reveal a cramped space still filled with boxes. “I’m planning to turn this into a butler’s pantry. There are stairs at the back that supposedly lead to a cellar. I’m hoping for some old wine racks down there. Or at least a decent place to store whiskey. I haven’t been down there to assess anything yet.”

Juliette shot him an amused glance. “Priorities.”

“Exactly.” He shut the door and motioned for her to follow him into the long, narrow room leading through the formal dining area.

“This will be my office.” He stepped inside, surveying the large space with its tall windows and broken fireplace mantel. Half of it lay on the floor, a testament to the building’s many years of wear. “It even has its own bathroom.”

Juliette ran her fingers lightly over the rough wood of the mantel. “Are you going to fix this?”

“Eventually. But first I need to make sure the house doesn’t fall down around me.”

She grinned. “Good plan.”

He led her out and into a small bathroom near the living room before guiding her up an old wooden staircase to the second floor. The steps creaked under their weight, the sound echoing in the quiet space.

“I’ve finally got all the furniture off of this floor,” he said when they were in the first bedroom on that floor. “Once Parker and Palmer assure me all the plumbing and power are shut off to this part, I’m going to help out by demo-ing the bathrooms up here myself.”

“Wow, you’re doing it yourself?” She ran a finger over the green countertop in the bathroom they stood in.

“Yeah, shouldn’t be too hard. A sledgehammer and jigsaw.” He shrugged.

She narrowed her eyes. “After your luck with simple plumbing, I’d be cautious.”

He chuckled. “I’ll make sure to wear a hardhat.”

They moved to the other side of the hallway, where an identical bedroom and bathroom sat. The pink tiles had Juliette laughing.

“I guess the interior was redone in the fifties?” she asked.

“Yeah, probably. The color choices are…”

“Retro.”

He nodded. “No one lived here back then. I think it was just a museum. At least I haven’t found any record of someone staying here full time.”

“So how do you get into the lighthouse from this floor?” Juliette asked when they reached the landing again. “Last night, we used a door at the end of the hallway downstairs. I would assume…” She walked over to a door and frowned when she opened it to find a linen closet.

Max smirked and walked to the other end of the hallway, where he placed his hand on a doorknob. “There’s an outside entrance as well as this entrance and the one downstairs.” He pushed open the door and motioned for her to step through.

She followed him into a narrow hallway leading directly into a circular staircase. The air felt different here—cooler, tinged with the scent of aged wood and the faintest hint of salt.

Juliette placed her hand on the smooth railing and peered upward to where the spiral of stairs disappeared into the shadows. A slow smile spread across her lips.

“I’d love to see the view this morning with the clear skies.” She glanced over at him. “Race you to the top?” she challenged.

Max groaned. “You just want to see if my head injury slows me down, don’t you?”

She laughed. “Maybe.”

Shaking his head, he followed her up, knowing that despite the house’s flaws, despite the endless work ahead of him, in this moment—with Juliette by his side—this place felt like an actual home for the first time.